


just cause

by starbooms



Series: work husbands [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Office Blow Jobs, Oral Sex, Post-Time Skip, Semi-Public Sex, hanamaki chose violence and matsukawa said yes bestie let's go do the damn thing, hehe haha just bestie tingz!, they are each other's impulse control and that's maybe a good thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29639676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbooms/pseuds/starbooms
Summary: Mattsun does what any reasonable person does when they have a relationship dilemma but no one in their immediate circle to reach out to: he goes to the Reddit Dating Advice Board."[M26] Question: is it just best friend things when your best friend [M26] and self-proclaimed work hubby asks to give you a blow job during your weekly Friday night hang outs? And is it bad that... I said yes? Any advice would be helpful, thanks - M."
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei
Series: work husbands [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2202705
Comments: 22
Kudos: 135





	1. Chapter 1

Matsukawa stops with his beer bottle mere inches from his lips. “... Repeat that for me,” he says each word slowly. As his brain short circuits and works furiously to reboot. 

Hanamaki, the bastard, looks calm. He bit into his pocky stick, snapping it in half. Chewing with a near lackadaisical laziness Matsukawa thought he was this close to having a breakdown. 

“If you’re not cool with it, that’s fine. I just thought you know. I’ve never given a blowjob before. I’ve  _ gotten  _ them. And they’ve been a blowout-ha. But giving one?” He shook his head as he bit into another pocky stick. “Never.” 

Ok. Alright. Ok. So he  _ hadn’t  _ misheard his friend’s earlier request. No, not just his friend-his best friend. His right-hand man. The tweedledum to his tweedledee-even though those labels are quite fluid and alternate rapidly at any given moment regardless of the circumstance-and death wasn’t enough to part them. 

Matsukawa takes a slow, long sip of his drink. 

_ “Mattsun, can I suck your dick?” _

Hanamaki had said it so  _ easily. _ After work, they had stopped by the convenience store to pick up some late dinner and drinks. It’s their usual Friday night routine. Hang out at the office, do work, catch the train line home, and then buy their meals to spend time at each other’s apartments. Usually, they flip-flopped where they stayed once a week. This week, it was Matsukawa’s turn to host. 

What he thought was going to end in their usual bad movie marathon, get stupid drunk, call Oikawa and Iwaizume to catch up, and then promptly passed out had taken a swift and unforeseen turn north. 

But heat jolts up his neck at the proposition. And Matsukawa can’t tell if the alcohol makes it easier for his brain to conjure up images of Hanamaki between his legs, lips red, eyes flushed- 

No, no. Get it together, Matsukawa. 

“Why my dick?” God that sounds so weird. He clears his throat after finally having enough mental capacity to respond. Hanamaki stares him down relentlessly for several seconds. 

“Well, I can’t suck mine.” Hanamaki goes for his drink and sips. “Not for lack of trying, though.”

“Oh my God,” Matsukawa groans into the palm of his hand. “Makki. Is this a joke? Tell me you’re joking. This is a safe space.” 

“No, Mattsun. I’m not joking. I’m consciously choosing violence. Or well, it could be pleasure. I’ll try to make it pleasurable anyways.” Matsukawa plays himself by peeking through his fingers. Just in time to see the pink of Hanamaki’s tongue jut out as he wets his lips. Probably in afterthought-and not to drive Matsukawa’s blood pressure through the roof. 

There are a million and one ways this situation ends. Some of them are hilarious. Others are a little mortifying. And one outcome, where Matsukawa let the yes that is forming on the tip of his tongue, growing with each passing second, out into the open to see where it goes.

Is it be weird to get a blowjob from your best friend? No, right? A little? Probably. God, he’s too drunk for this. 

“Again,” Makki’s voice drags him out of his spiral. Easy, and light. Not a hint of seriousness but Matsukawa knows better than to take that at face value. “If you don’t want to. It’s no biggie.” 

“It’s,” he drums his fingers along the bottle, “I’m confused. And surprised, about what brought this on.”

Hanamaki halfheartedly shrugs, taking a sip of his beer. He leans back onto the couch, resting his arm onto the side so he could sit his chin in the palm of his hand. The movie still plays in front of them. And Hanamaki’s eyes, thankfully, remain on the screen and not on Matsukawa. 

“Dunno. Just cause, I guess.”

Of course. Of course it’s his impulse. Of course it’s a random, stray, thought that Hanamaki’s brain concocts. So intriguing enough it sticks. Attractive enough to take root in his mind. And a tempting enough to possibly try. Because who else can Hanamaki ask to give an experimental blow job if not, his best friend, his partner in everlasting crime, Matsukawa Issei?

Matsukawa finishes the rest of his beer in two, big gulps. 

“Ok.” 

Hanamaki’s eyes trail back to Matsukawa. The bastard dares to be surprised. “Yeah?” Matsukawa catches how he licks his lips again. This time, with slower precision. He did that on  _ purpose _ . 

Matsukawa’s legs spread unconsciously. And he feels his cock twitch with interest. The warning bells ring loudly in his head. Screaming at him that tonight a line’s about to be crossed. Their relationship will change. It’ll take a catastrophic and fatal turn. His mind warns him to enforce the boundary. That they’re friends. Best friends. _ Only friends _ . 

Another part of his brain. The one that operates on a similar wavelength as Hanamaki’s. Is tempted by the idea of not the after. Not the consequences. But the moment. The actual act itself. 

Matsukawa’s gaze drops to Hanamki’s lips. Hanamaki meets the look. A smirk pulls across his mouth, all crooked and devious. He shifts closer. Matsukawa’s breath hitches as Hanamaki kneels between his legs. His fingers are warm. Resting neatly on Matsukawa’s thighs. 

“This still ok?”

“You haven’t even started yet,” Matsukawa lets out a breathy chuckle. 

Hanamaki’s rubbing small circles on his thighs. Each stroke sends a tiny jolt of pleasure up his legs, right to Matsukawa’s cock. “I know. But I wanna give you an outtie.”

“Well, I’m all innie.” 

“Oh I hate us,” Hanamaki hesitates after that. Staring intently at the forming bulge in Matsukawa’s pants. 

By no means is this Matsukawa’s first time receiving a blowjob from anyone. But it is his first blowjob from  _ Hanamaki.  _ And he’s not sure if this should be special or worthwhile or memorable. It’s hard to think straight-or logically-in this situation. So he decides to do what he does best:  _ not  _ think. 

“I’ll go slow,” Hanamaki mutters. And Matsukawa’s not sure who that’s meant to ease. 

Makki’s palm rubs up and down his clothed length. A light pressure, but it feels good. The friction of the fabric against his cock. Mattsun hisses, resorting himself to watch and let Hanamaki do as much or as little as he wants. 

“You feel big.” 

“I kinda am.”

Makki rolls his eyes as he presses his thumb against the tip of Matsukawa’s penis. “So humble.” Pressing down while he rubs in circles. Though his hand is still stroking him through his pants. Matsukawa doesn’t know what to expect. It’s weird, watching Makki be so intent with his dick. And the thought nearly makes him fall over with laughter. He’s seen Makki look this way before. Zero in and focused-so sharp with his attention-but it’s only been for volleyball. Even then, this look’s only come out when the game was  _ really  _ serious. 

His cock is freed shortly after. Hanamaki’s eyes drop downwards, his mouth slightly opens. Matsukawa wants to put his tongue in there. Or his fingers. Wants to know what Makki tastes like at this very moment. Wants to see Makki take him in his mouth, and then kiss him all the same. The thought makes his cock twitch. 

He reaches out to run his fingers through Makki’s hair, “Nervous?” he asks. Because if at any moment Hanamaki wanted to break whatever spell is between them-he’ll shatter it. Without hesitation. And he’d put back the pieces of their friendship so they can move forward with no worries or fears. 

Hanamaki leans into the touch. Which is odd, but nice. 

“A bit,” he whispers against the skin. His eyes shut, and for a moment Matsukawa thinks he’ll end up with blue balls and a cold shower but then Makki opens his eyes. And there’s this light of determination. His hand wraps around Matsukawa’s cock, giving it an experimental stroke. “Kinda like jerkin’ myself off.” 

“Don’t narrate. Please. I’ll die.”

“Rest in peace, then. Fuck, man. You’re hard. Like  _ hard _ . I make you this hard?” Makki’s words are timed to his strokes. His grip is firm, but not too tight. Jerking Matsukawa off with a nice rhythm that has Matsukawa’s pulse hammering on the side of his throat. It’s debauched, he thinks. Hearing the slick sounds of Makki jerking him off on the couch with the tv in the background as his grunts and sighs mingle in the small space between them. 

“Natural- _ ah _ -reaction.”

“Yeah,” and he twists once he comes to the head of Matsukawa’s cock. His thumb pressing into the slit of the tip. Matsukawa flat out  _ moans  _ Makki’s name. And that makes Makki grin. “You sound hot as hell dude.”

He smirks, “Thank- _ fuck _ .” without warning Makki swallows him whole. To the base. Matsukawa shoots forward, gripping Makki’s hair. “Idiot! You’ll choke!” 

Makki gags around his cock, eyes streaming down his face. He pulls off, coughing. His lips red and slick with saliva. He coughs a few more times, rubbing his throat. “Ok yeah. Can’t deep throat in one go. I thought-fuck,” he coughs again. “If I just. Just went for it. Wouldn’t chicken out.” 

Matsukawa is dumbfounded. Utterly dumbfounded. That this is happening at all. That Hanamaki just had him all the way to the back of his throat. That they were conversing so casually while his cock was still out, hard, and leaking. His hand that’s still in Makki’s hair relaxes its grip. Stroking softly, while gently urging him back down. 

“Go slow,” he murmurs. Because he’s decided, at this moment, that this is still happening. That the fantasy in his head of his cum on Makki’s lips and his tongue and down his throat growing stronger by the second needed to become reality. “Take me slowly. Get used to me.” 

Their gazes meet. Neither willing to break eye contact. Makki sighs, his eyes fluttering as he leans forward and drags his tongue from the base of Matsukawa’s cock to the tip. It’s a jolt. Matsukawa’s legs tremble while Makki slowly works over his cock with his mouth. A suckle on the head, with his fingers wrapping around the base to jerk what he can’t swallow. It’s a sloppy head. Matsukawa watches, his eyes are blown with desire, as his best friend sucks him off. Makki’s cheeks are so red, they’re redder than his  _ hair _ . And his eyes are closed. His eyebrows are knitted in concentration the same way they used to be when they’d take their math exams. 

Makki’s mouth is so wet and so hot. It felt so  _ good _ . Each suck’s rough, experimental, but eager. It’s not the best blowjob he’s ever received but it’s by far the hottest. Matsukawa’s mesmerized by the way Makki keeps licking and sucked at the head of his cock. And once he finds his rhythm? Matsukawa’s gone. The pleasure takes over. His cock sits heavy and hard on Makki’s mouth, precum seeping from his slit. 

He rubs his hands through Makki’s hair and whispers broken words of encouragement as he sucks him off. “ _ So pretty. You look so pretty, what the fuck Makki?”  _ And Makki responds but the vibrations are so much that Matsukawa just groans and thrusts his hips forward in shallow motions. 

“Makki. Makki I’m close-” he warns, feeling the heat in his belly. It’s so much. It’s too much. Makki’s sucking him with such a passion. His hand twisting and stroking his cock while his mouth swallows whatever it can. While his tongue licks at the slit. And then, it’s too much. It’s too fucking  _ much  _ when he sees Makki reaching down to palm his own erection through his pants. 

He moans Makki’s name as he cums. Inside Makki’s mouth as his friend jerks him through. His mouth wrapped tightly and suckling on his head. Matsukawa jerks, his groan long and guttural as he empties himself and slips bonelessly back into the couch. 

“Ah,” Makki’s face is red. His eyes half-lidded as he palms himself through his pants. He slips his hand past the waist of his pants, grabs his cock, and strokes. Matsukawa watches, feeling the heat of Makki’s free palm resting on his thigh, as he jerks himself off. Makki holds his gaze. Never breaking contact. His lips open, and glistening with saliva. He licks them, and Matsukawa thinks and thinks and thinks about how hot this is and how badly he wants to kiss Makki right now at this moment. 

“Mattsun, I’m close.”

“Yeah?” Matsukawa’s hand still rests so neatly in Makki’s hair. He strokes encouragingly. “I get to see it?”

Makki nods, his breath staggering and stuttering. His head drops, and Matsukawa catches how furiously Makki strokes himself off and then. Makki gasps. His eyes flutter and the hand on Matsukawa’s thigh grips him tight as he finishes. A low groan that, if Matsukawa was egotistical enough, sounded a lot like  _ his name.  _ Makki’s hips bucked, arching slightly from his kneeled position as he orgasmed. 

He pants, resting his head against Matsukawa’s thigh. Matsukawa leans forward, pressing his nose into the red tresses of Makki’s hair. 

“Good. You did good,” he whispers. His bones are melted. His skin is hot. He’s slipped into this space where all he wants and all he needs and all he craves is to tell Hanamaki how good he was. How good he  _ is _ . How much he enjoyed seeing him give pleasure, and give himself pleasure in return. 

The two sit like that for a while. Their movie is over, and the credits roll but neither of them really care. It’s just Mattsun and Makki. Like it’s always been. Like it always would be. 


	2. Chapter 2

On the average day, Matsukawa thinks about a lot of things. What he’ll make for dinner. How many times can he make Oikawa lose his mind? If he can nail the bottle flip challenge. Did he forget to turn off the stove before leaving for work? Is his bank account looking right or looking like a  _ fright?  _

Sex, frankly, isn’t really up there. Not that he doesn’t consider it. He’s a healthy, 26 year old man with a solid sex drive. It’s just… it really… isn’t all that important. 

Then his best friend gave him a blow job and now he can’t stop thinking about it. 

It’s annoying, at first. Because he’ll be in a meeting with Hanamaki and their co-workers. Their project leader is doing what a project leader should do-lead the project. There’s a cute little powerpoint with animations and sound effects because Oikawa thinks  _ everything  _ needs sound effects. Iwaizumi rattles off data and numbers. Things that make sense if you close your eyes and let it go in one ear and out the other. 

Hanamaki’s there too. Sitting across from Matsukawa. His eyes never leave Oikawa if he speaks or Iwaizumi if he presents percentages and colorful bar graphs. Matsukawa, well. His eyes  _ do  _ go to the screen of presentations but they’re mostly on Hanamaki. Specifically, on his lips. 

_ He licks his lips so much. Are they dry? Should I tell him to invest in chapstick?  _

Matsukawa has not been keeping track of how many times Hanamaki licks his lips or puts something in his mouth, like a pen cap or his thumb. But if he were to give, let’s just say for funsies, a rough estimate of how many times he does this he’d say the number would be in about the thousands. Maybe the hundreds of thousands category. 

If he were to, again this is just for funsies, admit that staring at Hanamaki’s lips sends his brain into overdrive. Imagining the night a week ago where those same lips were wrapped around his cock. Sucking him off with eagerness. So messy yet so  _ good  _ despite it not even being the best blowjob he’s gotten. But it was good. It was  _ hot.  _ And he feels the front of his pants tighten. While boners were natural he did  _ not  _ want to pop one in the middle of their business meeting. 

“Mattsun. Hello! Are you with us?” Oikawa asks. And Matsukawa is back to the present. Shifting in his chair. “I asked you a question and to ignore me is  _ incredibly  _ rude.”

Hanamaki’s gaze meets his. And for a second, their silent telepathy does more damage than blessings because he  _ knows _ . Matsukawa knows he knows. In the way Hanamaki raises his eyebrows. In the way the light dawns in his eyes as he connects the dots. 

His eyes drop and then trail slowly back up. And at the same time, Hanamaki puts his pen by his bottom lip, rubbing it across purposefully. A flick of pink from his tongue jutting out just slightly to catch the ti-

“Matsukawa!”

“Yeah. Sorry, I’m here.” he composes himself by sitting upright and flashing Oikawa a lazy grin. “Progress reports, right? I have ‘em.” 

He discretely shifts his pants and thinks very unsexy things not related to Makki’s lips as he gets up and stands at the end of the table. 

Oikawa folds his arms, huffing. “Why’d you act like you didn’t hear me the first time? I’m your supervisor you know! Where’s the respect?”

“It’s in transit,” Matsukawa fiddles with the computer as he goes to find his documents in the shared cloud drive. “Should be here within… the next year?”

Iwaizumi barks with laughter, “Stop, that’s so  _ foul _ . At least have it here by the end of the month.”

“Iwa-chan! I’m  _ betrayed _ . Where’s the loyalty?”

“In transit,” Iwaizumi replies, deadpan. 

The table erupts with laughter. Matsukawa grins and for a few moments, things are normal. He’s not thinking about his dear friend sucking him off. He’s at work. About to deliver a routine progress report while cracking some jokes here and there to make things spicy. He’s not turned on anymore. It’s him. At work. Focused. 

And if he felt Makki’s gaze on him the entire presentation, and  _ if  _ that gaze sent heat down to the very ends of his spine-then. Well. That was just an occupational hazard at this point. 

-

“Nearly done?”

Matsukawa glances up from his computer screen. Makki’s here. Propping against his cubby with some file folders held in his hand on his shoulder. 

“Almost.” he forces himself not to stare at Makki’s lips like a wild animal. And keeps his eyes firmly glued upon his computer monitor. “You?”

Makki yawns, “Nope. I’m taking my lunch break early.” 

“Yeah?” He keeps his focus on the keyboard. Monotonous clicking and tapping away at keys.”So you came here to rub it in, huh?”

“No. I actually came here to rub one out.”

Matsukawa fingers freeze over his keyboard. His eyes go wide and his heart rate utterly betrays him by the sudden skyrocket of his pulse. His brain is the next betrayer.  _ Et tu, mind _ ? As he imagines, quite vividly, what  _ rubbing one out  _ means. 

He clears his throat. “I know we’ve been friends for years but I didn’t think sharing our masturbation habits was in the terms and conditions.”

“They weren’t, until recently.” Makki comes closer. So close Matsukawa can feel the heat of his body pressed against his back. Makki’s hands curl onto his shoulders and he leans forward so his lips are right by Matsukawa’s ear. If anyone were to walk by in this moment, it’d look like Makki was commenting on the data charts Matsukawa has on the screen. And  _ not  _ like he’s about to proposition something  _ filthy  _ during the 9-5 workday. 

Matsukawa exhales with a little more force. 

“Yeah? What changed?”

“I sucked your dick and ended up liking it more than anticipated. And have been thinking about doing it again ever since.” Hanamaki whispers  _ right  _ into Matsukawa’s ear. The sound travels right down his spine, tingling and setting off every nerve until he feels a familiar twitch between his legs. An uncomfortably pleasant heat forming as the seconds past. 

“Is that so.”

Makki laughs, “Trying to play it cool, I see. That’s cute. That’s  _ super  _ cute, Mattsun.” he pats Matsukawa’s shoulder three times before leaning back up. Taking a purposeful step back so he’s pressed so close. Matsukawa finds himself immediately missing the heat.

“But listen,” Makki continues, “I’ll be taking my lunch break in the file room on the third floor. Since people don’t usually come by there around that time. If you’re also hungry, feel free to join.” 

Matsukawa doesn’t turn around. He catches Makki’s reflection in the monitor. Sees his lopsided and crooked smirk that disappears after Makki turns leaves for the file room. Matsukawa may or may not have lingered on the monitor screen to catch Makki as he goes. Once he’s out of sight, Matsukawa releases a deep sigh that makes his shoulders droop and his whole body slouch in his chair.

He’s painfully hard. 

It’s embarrassing, and a little pathetic, the effect a few words from his friend-and  _ co-worker _ -has on him. This is new. And different. And a little… exhilarating? It’s like those trashy erotic mangas he used to read for the fun of it. Where the leads exchange cheesy flirtatious dialogue to rile each other up. Only to sneak off later to bang in a bathroom stall. 

Though they wouldn’t be banging-or maybe. No, no stop that train of thought right there Matsukawa. 

You can’t just bang your best friend  _ and co-worker  _ in the middle of the day at work. 

Matsukawa glances down at his computer screen where the time 12:15pm flashes back at him. Makki’s only been gone for about, ten minutes. He must be waiting, right? His words were a bait and Matsukawa is the one to be baited. He can see that as clear as day. Should he go? Does he  _ have  _ to? 

Or is this a final opportunity to erect a barrier. To say this is too far, and this is the line, and we do not have to cross this at work. 

He’s at a crossroads and for another minute, he weighs the pros and cons of following Makki’s tempo. 

Then he recalls how nice Makki’s ass looked in his pants today. And that’s enough to get him up out of his chair making a beeline for the files room.

“Where you heading to in such a hurry, Mattsun?” Oikawa turns around in his chair as Matsukawa practically sprints by. “You gotta shit?”

“You’re vulgar,” Iwaizumi snorts, standing behind him. “Don’t clog the bathroom if that’s the case, Matsukawa.”

“Not shitting! Lunch break!” Matsukawa hollers and then he's gone. 

-

“Oh.” 

Matsukawa opens the door, panting and slightly out of breath. Hanamaki’s crouched by the bookcase where they keep all their records. Phone in his hands. He looks surprised and then, it morphs into a smile of utter amusement.  _ Bastard _ . 

Matsukawa wastes no time stepping inside and locking the door behind him. “Oh is all you have to say? Really?” he’s standing in front of him, hands on his hips. Makki’s looking up at him, his smirk still in place but Matsukawa sees a hesitation in his eyes. A slight flicker of something that disappears again. 

Makki puts his phone into his pocket, “Color me shocked. I thought you’d chicken out.” a beat later he goes, “I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Well, I hope you wouldn’t be mad if I did. I think it breaks like, ten rules to hook up at the workplace.” 

“Yeah but it’s cool. Boss and Oikawa have done it plenty of times. So if they find out I’ll just remind them that  _ I  _ know what  _ they  _ do during the workday.” 

Huh. Okay, so  _ that  _ hunch was right after all. Matsukawa grins, “You’ve caught them?”

“A few times,” Makki shrugs, and suddenly he looks nervous. “Did you lock the door?”

Matsukawa nods. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

He nods again, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Makki’s eyes meet his, and he’s searching for the way out. He’s waiting for Matsukawa to make a punchline so this joke they’ve conned for too long will end. He’s seeking that. And Matsukawa can give that. Easily. It’s as easy as creating the words,  _ “Let’s not after all”  _ and then, it’s over. 

Instead, he cards his fingers through Makki’s hair. Because it’s so incredibly soft. And it fits so well through the gaps of his fingers. Makki leans into the touch, eyes dropping shut. His mouth slightly opens. And Matsukawa tugs him back gently, so Makki can look at him again. So his neck is bared. So he can let his hand fall to cup Makki’s face, his fingers sprayed against his cheek. His thumb strokes Makki’s bottom lip in a dangerous and horrifically intimate fashion. 

His heart stutters at the sight. He’s not sure what that means. 

Makki sucks Matsukawa’s thumb into his mouth. A jolt shoots up Matsukawa’s arm throughout his entire body. He’s never watched someone suck his fingers. It’s never been up for consideration. Yet watching Makki lick and suck on his thumb, kissing the tip of the pad like he’s working on his cock  _ does  _ something to Matsukawa. He groans, feeling the jolt turn into a rush of heat. His throat goes dry. His eyes flutter and his cheeks heat. 

“Warming up?” 

Makki grins around Matsukawa’s thumb before he lets go. “A bit,” he hums. He reaches forward, hands on Matuskawa’s hips. And Matsukawa moves. So easily, because really he’s always fallen in line to the beat of Makki’s haphazard tempo. It’s easy to do when you harmonize with someone. 

Matsukawa has never received a blowjob at work before. 

He’s wondering now why he’s never tried. 

Makki’s mouth is so so hot. Maybe even hotter than the first time. It’s different. Being sober for this. The situation’s changed. Now they’re at work and anyone could pass by. But that makes it even hotter. 

Matsukawa groans, his fingers twisting in Makki’s hair as Makki’s cheeks hollow around his cock. He’s as eager as he was last time but there’s more precision and confidence to his sucking. He wraps his arms around the base of Makki’s cock and strokes for every inch he can’t get in his mouth.

His tongue slides along the underside of his cock, and he hums around the tip. His lips puckering at the head suckle while he twists with his fingers. He drags his tongue before popping off, jerking Matsukawa off with his fingers. 

Matsukawa exhales, a short and staggered sound. Nearly wretched from his lips. “Fuck, better. You got better.”

Makki’s grin is slow and mischievous, “Thanks. I practiced on a banana all weekend.”

The sound that leaves Matsukawa is inhumane. He doubles over, his hands still in Makki’s hair, laughing uncontrollably. “Makki do  _ not  _ make me cry! Don’t do it! You’re jerking me off in the files room!”

“My humor is not conditional upon the space I’m in or the dick I’m sucking!” Makki’s laughter mixes with Matsukawa and it’s in this moment where Matsukawa considers how easy it’s always been with Makki. 

So easy and comfortable, that they can laugh like this even when it’s so intimate. Even when the lines between their relationship blur so aggressively it’s hard to tell what is from what isn’t. 

“Hey.” 

Matsukawa leans back, watching as Makki slowly jerks him off. “What?”

“I want you to fuck my face.”

“...Yeah?” 

“ _ Yeah _ .” then Makki flicks his tongue out. Slipping it into the slit of the head. Matsukawa’s knees buckle and his grip tightens. “Please,” Makki’s voice is so quiet. So very quiet. 

Matsukawa inhales sharply, then exhales just the same. “Open your jaw, and relax.” he murmurs, his fingers coming to cup the back of Makki’s head as he guides him down to take him. “I’ll go slow. And if it hurts-if you can’t take it-you tap me on the leg two times. I’ll stop immediately,” he promises. 

“Ok,” Makki’s grin this time is more loose, pleased. His voice is honey sweet and Matsukawa wants to be inside it. Wants to be warm and feel Makki’s mouth wrapped around his cock. 

Makki opens his mouth and swallows, inch by inch until he’s at the base. Matsukawa’s eyes roll into the back of his head. His cock near the back of his throat. It’s so  _ warm  _ and good. He grunts, “I’m, I’m gonna-” and Makki just hums. The vibrations send sparks of pleasure that make Matsukawa lose it.

He thrusts his hips forward. A gentle pace. One that Makki can get used to. A slow slide in and out. Makki is eager though. He wants more. Makki’s tongue rubs the underside of his cock. His teeth brush against him on occasion but it’s a good feeling, the mess of it all only making it better. 

He’s so close. Matsukawa can feel it. His hips start to stutter as he jerks forward, his thrusting more sloppy. But Makki just hums and hums, looking up at him through his eyelashes. Never breaking eye contact-as if to say  _ yes, give me all that you have. I want it. I want it.  _ Makki’s fingers curl around Matsukawa’s hips to hold himself steady. 

It’s so hard to be quiet. Matsukawa wants to be loud. He wants to moan Makki’s name amongst obscenities as he takes him. Wants to let him know how good he is. How good he feels. And he wants him to feel just as good in return. Wants to work him open after he finishes, make sure he’s loose, and if he wants-if he  _ wanted _ , ask if he could fuck him. He thinks of it. Thinks about what it’d be like to fuck Makki against the bookshelf. 

How tight he’d be. What noises he’d make. He’s already heard his moans and grunts, and they were surprisingly heavenly. Surprisingly  _ delicious  _ to the ears. Wants to see Makki’s face as he comes undone. As he unravels and falls apart and comes in his arms for him over and over-

It’s the image of Makki jerking himself off, cumming in front of him, that sends him over. 

He feels the heat pool in his stomach. His cock jerks and jumps against Makki’s tongue and then-he comes. Shooting down Makki’s throat, moaning his name as he does. Makki nearly chokes, his eyes watering. But he takes it. He takes everything Matsukawa gives him as he finishes inside his mouth. Swallowing his cum. 

Matsukawa’s knees feel like jelly. His whole body feels like jelly-actually. His eyes flutter and he swallows thickly past the heat in his throat. His cock jerks weakly, spilling the last spurts of his cum on Makki’s tongue. He pulls out, his cock wet and red and he feels… he feels like he’s on cloud ninety-nine, that’s how high he feels. 

He strokes Makki’s face, noticing how red his cheeks were. How red his lips were. And most importantly, how hard he was. His cock was pitched tight in his pants. 

“Are you ok?” he asks, his voice quiet and wrecked. 

Makki nods, “Yeah,” his voice sounds rough. He coughs, chuckling. “You could have went harder.”

“No way. You wouldn’t recover. How would we explain that?”

“We?” Makki raises an eyebrow. “We wouldn’t have to explain anything, you know. It’s my throat that’s wrecked. People would just think I got sick or something.”

Right. Right. That makes sense. Why would anyone assume they were a we? Why had Matsukawa assumed they were a we?

He nods, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid. He blames the post orgasm afterglow. Notorious for making even the smartest men capable of only operating on half a brain cell. 

“Can I,” he decides to turn the conversation stage left, “finish you off?”

There’s another moment of silence. Which Matsukawa notes as odd because it’s never silent between them. Not purposefully. But Makki’s hesitant to speak. And that’s also odd. Because he never thinks before he speaks-unless absolutely dire. 

Finally Makki shakes his head, pushing himself up slowly. He groans, rubbing at his knees. “Jeez these floors are hard as fuck. We need to install some carpeting or cushions ASAP. But no, you don’t have to. I know you’ve never given a guy head before. You don’t have to do it now outta obligation or whatever.”

There’s a weird edge to Makki’s voice. One that Matsukawa catches onto immediately. “What makes you think it would be outta obligation? Cause that’s not how this started.”

“Ah right,” and there’s Makki’s lazy grin again. It’s infuriating now, losing all of its charm. “Let me rephrase. You don’t gotta suck me off outta curiosity. This can be a completely one-sided exchange. Well,” he cocks his head, “it’s mutual. Because I’ve realized quickly I really like sucking… dick.” he frowns at the end, but it goes just as quickly as it comes. 

Matsukawa’s not sure what to do with this development. Something in the back of his head tells him to press. To keep pushing because Makki’s hiding something but then another voice in his head says maybe that’s for the best. Maybe what’s being hidden  _ should  _ stay covered if Makki’s not ready or willing to speak about it. 

It’s a cowards choice, but one it seems both men are willing to take. 

“You sure?” he asks again. Weaker than the first time. 

Hanamaki laughs, patting Matsukawa on the shoulder. “I’m  _ so  _ sure. I told you, remember? I’m gonna rub one out for lunch. Which by the way, we’ve been out for a  _ minute _ . So before they start looking for us go-I’ll follow you in a few.”

Hanamaki pushes Matsukawa to the door, while Matsukawa fumbles to zip himself up because heading outside with his cock out would  _ not  _ be how he wants to end the work day. Or honestly, be caught any day. He looks over his shoulder as his hand wraps around the knob, catching Makki’s questioning gaze. 

“What? I got cum on my lips?” he licks his lips and rubs his thumb along his mouth. Matsukawa nearly rips off the door handle he’s so caught off guard. 

“N-No,” he clears his throat. “It’s… it’s nothing.” he opens the door and is nearly out when Hanamaki’s voice catches him. 

“Hey Mattsun.”

“What?”

Hanamaki makes a sucking dick motion with his tongue in his cheek and a jerking motion with his hands, “Thanks for the meal.”

Matsukawa can  _ still _ hear Hanamaki’s hyena laugh as he slams the door and heads back into the office. 

-

That night after work finds Matsukawa on his bed, laptop in his lap, Google mocking him with an empty search bar. 

He has a beer cup in his hand, glasses sliding down the slope of his nose. He’s pondering. He’s in a conundrum. He’s now giving himself a little time to think about what’s gone on with his best friend over the past week and a half. 

It’s weird. Not in a  _ haha wow a guy’s sucking my dick _ because while Matsukawa has never considered himself gay, he’s never  _ not  _ considered that he’d be attracted to guys as well as girls.

And then he thinks- _ well maybe it’s just that I find Hanamaki attractive.  _ Because he does. He admits that to himself on beer can number three. That Hanamaki, the gremlin that he is, is attractive. A handsome, conniving bastard but handsome. And Matsukawa would have to be silly not to see that. 

Then he starts thinking once he gets to beer can number four about the entire ridiculousness of the situation. Do friends even ask to hook up with their friends if there weren’t any ulterior motives? If at least one party was attractive to  _ some extent  _ to risk trying? Surely no one offers to perform fellatio out of boredom?

“Well Hanamaki’s a different breed,” Matsukawa mutters, his thumb tapping at the side of his laptop. “He could easily be doing this just because…” 

Maybe, if Matsukawa didn’t know his best friend so well, that’d be enough. He’d be able to take that as an answer. Finish his beer. And then go to sleep unnerved and unbothered by any implications of his friend’s behavior. 

Yet Matsukawa’s aware of how intimate he becomes when they’re together in that moment and space. It’s like his head gets wired to the frequency and heat that Hanamaki produces-to how safe and comfortable Hanamaki makes him feel, and the intimacy just… follows after. Matsukawa thinks about his last relationships that were more or less just physical, and he’s never been  _ that  _ intimate. Not really. 

He thinks back to the weird glances and looks Hanamaki would get once the conversation steered from surface level to something deeper. Hanamaki’s not the most honest person when it comes to emotions. He's a super roundabout. Which for Matsukawa was normally never an issue because he got Hanamaki so well. He could usually piece together the bits of information not said to create the full picture. And eventually, Hanamaki tells him anyway. 

This is different. Hanamaki’s not budging. It’s obvious though that there’s more he wants to say but what that could be? Matsukawa hasn’t got a clue.

So he does what any normal young adult does when they need advice but they don’t want to turn to their friends out of complications to do so: he goes to Reddit. 

Matsukawa stares at the empty title and text box post. “Issei… how have you gotten this far? Oversharing your woes on the internet... what a way to spend a Wednesday evening.” he finishes the rest of his beer. Hoping the alcohol will give him some courage. 

And it does, as he types into the Reddit page his question: [M26] Question: is it just best friend things when your best friend [M26] and self-proclaimed work hubby asks to give you a blow job during your weekly Friday night hang outs? And is it bad that... I said yes? Any advice would be helpful, thanks - M. 

He shuts his laptop right after hitting the post button. It’s above him now. 

When he wakes up the next day he has about thirty comments and they all, more or less, say the same thing. 

_ Dude, he’s probably in love with you.  _

Matsukawa’s mouth hangs open as the dots come crashing together.  “Oh.  _ Fuck. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm thinking of making this a series because i realized this def ends on a cliff hanger (and that was not intentional LMAOOO). so another short fic, probs a one shot or two shot, will be coming to tie the loose ends! thank you so much for reading! hope you enjoyed! the matsuhana agenda lives to see another day!

**Author's Note:**

> don't ask me where this idea came from i have no solid answers other than, just because <3 but hello! i hope you liked this! the next chapter will probs be out by the end of the week. a nice two-chapter matsuhana goodness. 
> 
> also if you have a tumblr you should follow me @starglossie and on twitter @passionbootys. that is all have a RAD and STELLAR day <3


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